


Pinky Promise

by sweetlullabies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Clubbing, Dogs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, No Angst, One Night Stands, surprisingly right? didn't know it was possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:18:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8022430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetlullabies/pseuds/sweetlullabies
Summary: “Well, Mr. Stalker,” Louis starts.  “I don’t know of any other ways to occupy myself in this establishment.”“You can dance with me if you’d like,” Harry suggests, his eyes just a hint pleading.Louis shakes his head.  “Dancing’s not my thing, mate.”Harry’s face falls at that, his fingers starting to faintly brush at Louis’ knee.  “Why?  Not even with me?”Louis glances down at where Harry is making contact with him, biting the inside of his cheek.  He looks back up to find him still staring, seemingly desperate for Louis to share a dance with him.  Honestly, this guy is cute—well, a little more than cute, let’s not dwell on it—but he’s not having sex with this guy tonight, so he doesn’t want to give him any false hope for even a second.   or the au where Louis is looking for a quick fix and finds a little something more.





	Pinky Promise

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy!

Louis taps his fingers against his thighs as he lets the bass of the music marinate in his ears.  If he’s not mistaken, he’s pretty sure the DJ, or whoever’s in charge of the music, has played the same song at least three times in the last hour.

He swings his feet from the bar stool he’s sitting on as he leans his elbows on the counter of the bar.  He doesn’t want a drink, but he also doesn’t want to turn around and face the heart of the club, where all the creepy men are waiting for him to make eye contact with them.

He knew that coming here was a mistake as soon as Stan had mentioned it earlier.  _It’ll be fun Lou, come on.  You haven’t had a night out in a while,_ well, this is exactly why.

Clubs, or bars, or whatever this establishment that he’s in right now wants to be called, have never been his forte.  He gets unsettling vibes every time he steps foot in one of them, and whoever he enters with always ends up ditching him, just like Stan had managed to do within the first fifteen minutes.  Louis hadn’t even bothered to go searching for him, instead just opting to sit at the bar and reject every drink that’s offered to him.

He joins his hands on top of the counter and examines his surroundings for a second.  He can admit, he does kind of like the mysteriously dark lighting in the place, along with the occasional low blue or purple lights that make everything seem a bit more mystical.  The place being so dim kind of helps when he turns guys down with a sharp roll of his eyes.

He lets out a huff as he swings a bit in the chair, bored out of his mind.  He figures that it’ll take Stan at least two more hours before he gets tired and seeks out Louis so that they can go home.  He really should’ve driven himself instead of carpooling with Stan, he now realizes.

“I don’t suppose you’re choosing to sit alone?” he hears a deep voice ask from out of nowhere, nearly making him jump out of his seat.

He keeps his composure though, straightening his back without even turning to the side to look this guy in his face.

“Actually I am,” he replies matter-of-factly.

He watches in his peripheral as the guy rests his arm on the bar now, allowing himself to get just a little closer to Louis.  Wow, this one is persistent, isn’t he?

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he starts.  “A guy as stunning as you has no business being alone on a night like this.”

At that, Louis turns his head to the guy, the indigo light hitting half of his face as he looks at Louis.  It takes Louis aback for a moment, because from how deep his voice was, Louis would’ve guessed him to look less… _adorable_.

His eyes are huge, first of all, and his cheeks and lips are so baby smooth that Louis almost thinks of asking for his skin care routine.

“Thank you,” Louis replies, before looking down so that the redness in his face can’t be seen.

He glances back up eventually, giving the guy a once-over in the process.  He’s wearing a maroon blazer, black skinny jeans, and what looks like black boots.  He also has round black sunglasses resting in his hair (which consists of long brown and silky _curls,_ by the way).  He’s a little polished for Louis’ taste, but he’s willing to look past it.

Louis gestures vaguely at him.  “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I know,” he replies, followed by a cheeky grin.

Louis raises his eyebrows in surprise.  “Oh, really?  Cocky’s the new modest, I guess?”

The guy shoves Louis lightly with his hand, letting out an airy laugh, and oh, he has _dimples too_.  “I’m just kidding.  Thank you.”  He extends his right hand, which has at least two rings on the index finger.  “I’m Harry.”

Louis takes his hand, trying not to pass out from noticing how gigantic it is.  “I’m Louis.”

“Louis, Louis,” Harry says, repeating the name a few times as though he’s trying to test out how it sounds in his mouth.  “Sounds French.”

Louis smirks as he holds the bottom of his seat.  “Guess you could say that, yeah.”

Harry inches a bit closer—just a _bit_ —and Louis can slightly smell the fancy cologne he’s got on.  It takes a lot in him not to pull this guy all the way into his lap.

“French is the language of love.  You know that right?” Harry asks, the words flowing out from between his lips rather elegantly.

“You’re quite the charmer aren’t you?” Louis asks, tilting his head as he looks up at the boy.  “Bet you’ve been plotting your approach this whole night.”

Harry shrugs as he comes closer, eyes darting down at Louis’ lips for just half a second.  There’s about half a foot of space between them, but for Louis, it’s still too much.

“Actually, I have,” he replies.  “After seeing you reject guy after guy, I started to get a little nervous, but I decided to suck it up because I knew I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”

Louis looks down as he bites back a grin, trying to keep himself from getting too flustered.  “You don’t even know me.  How do you know this is such an ‘opportunity’?” he asks, using air quotes at the last word.

Harry rests one foot on the bars of the stool Louis’ sitting on.  “Sometimes, you just get this gut feeling, you know?  When I first laid eyes on you, my breath was taken away from me.”

Louis laughs now, looking up at Harry with brightened eyes.  “You’re a bit too melodramatic for me.”

Harry just smiles his big smile, white teeth making Louis go blind, and his dimples giving his cheeks adorable craters.

“I wasn’t being melodramatic, but okay…if you don’t believe in love at first sight then that’s your problem,” he says as he runs his fingers through his locks.

Louis rolls his eyes fondly as he watches this ridiculous boy spew nonsense words.

“If you’d like a drink I can buy you one?” he asks innocently, which almost startles Louis.  Pretty much every guy that has approached him at the bar says “Let me buy you a drink” or asks as though Louis owes them as much.  Harry looks hesitant, as though he’s actually… _respecting_ Louis’ boundaries…amazing.

“No, I don’t want one, but thank you,” Louis replies before offering him a grin.

Harry nods in return, even though his eyebrows furrow in confusion.  “Why are you sitting at the bar, then?  You’ve been here for like half an hour.”

Louis raises his eyebrows.  “You really _have_ been stalking me.”

“I _told_ you I was,” Harry says with a giggle.  He reaches out a hand, just resting on Louis’ knee to establish some type of contact.

“Well, Mr. Stalker,” Louis starts.  “I don’t know of any other ways to occupy myself in this establishment.”

“You can dance with me if you’d like,” Harry suggests, his eyes just a hint pleading.

Louis shakes his head.  “Dancing’s not my thing, mate.”

Harry’s face falls at that, his fingers starting to faintly brush at Louis’ knee.  “Why?  Not even with me?”

Louis glances down at where Harry is making contact with him, biting the inside of his cheek.  He looks back up to find him still staring, seemingly desperate for Louis to share a dance with him.  Honestly, this guy is cute—well, a little more than cute, let’s not dwell on it—but he’s not having sex with this guy tonight, so he doesn’t want to give him any false hope for even a second.

“How about this, Harry Stalker,” Louis begins.

“Styles,” Harry corrects him with a grin.

“Styles?  Your last name is really _Styles_?” Louis asks incredulously.  “That sounds so fake.”  Harry laughs that low, addicting laugh that Louis’ already growing to love.

“Anyway,” Louis continues.  “How about you come back later—if you’re still eager to do the dancing thing—and see if maybe I’ll be in the mood then?”

Harry frowns.  “Are you trying to let me down easy?”

Louis purses his lips.  “I’m giving you permission to approach me later.  I don’t think that’s a rejection.”

“You’re probably gonna leave.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” Louis replies.  “Maybe it’ll teach you a lesson about ‘love at first sight’.”

“Promise not to leave,” Harry says, actually sticking out a _pinky_ for Louis to hook his own around.  What’s even more ridiculous is the fact that Louis _does_ it, because he’s not a complete douche.  He wasn’t _actually_ going to leave Harry hanging.

“That’s a promise, Styles,” Louis says as their pinkies remain hooked.  “Now, go.  Go back to the magical fairytale garden you came from.”

Harry’s previously deflated state vanishes as he giggles at Louis, and then he’s gone, lost within the bodies of everyone that’s in the club (which is a _lot_ by the way), and Louis’ pretty sure he’s made a good decision.  He was _not_ going to have a one night stand with that guy.  He was too…full of something that Louis can’t quite pinpoint.

The music pounds Louis’ ears the longer he sits, now facing the crowd of people and still avoiding eye contact with unsettling old men.

Eventually, his restlessness gets the best of him when he slides down from his chair, letting his feet take him to wherever they want to go.  He just needs a change of scenery.

He spots Stan out of the corner of his eye as he approaches the floor, which is a miracle, because he was pretty sure finding him would be quite a difficult task considering how crowded and busy everything was.  He is sat in a booth with one other guy and a bunch of girls that Louis doesn’t know, which isn’t surprising.

Louis contemplates approaching him and asking if he’s ready to go, even though it’s clear that he’s far from ready.

Louis twiddles his thumbs, slowing his steps as he becomes unsure of what he’s even doing.  He just wants to leave.  Or he wants to find Harry…ugh.

People are dancing around him, slow and sensual-like as the music blasts, and Louis’ sure there should be a rule for how close two people can get.

He gasps when he feels a gentle hand snake around his torso from behind, and normally he would turn around and flick off whoever this guy was, but he knows exactly who it is, and he doesn’t have that much of a problem with it.

“You said you wouldn’t leave,” Harry purrs in his ear, tickling his skin and almost emitting a shiver from him.

“I meant this _club_ , not the bar,” Louis replies, voice soft as he lolls his head slightly to the side.

Harry presses up closely behind him, the front of his jeans coming in direct contact with Louis’ bum.  Louis struggles to control himself.

“So you _do_ want to dance, after all?”

He hadn’t even realized that Harry had begun swaying them side to side, slowly as they stand close together.

Louis shushes him gently as he moves his hand to rest over Harry’s on his torso.  “You’re ruining it.”

Harry just barely brushes his lips against the skin on Louis’ neck.  “You’re irresistible.  You know that right?”

“And stop asking me if I know things,” Louis replies, giggling a little.  He turns around in Harry’s arms, his eyes immediately falling on Harry’s lips.  He runs his right hand down Harry’s chest, not even aware he’s doing it before it’s already happened.

“Just making sure you know how beautiful you are from my point of view,” Harry says, his voice low and somehow deeper as he looks at Louis’ lips as well.  His arm is now on the small of Louis’ back, pulling him in closer as gradually as possible.

And that’s the last straw.  Louis cannot _take_ any more flattery from this flower of a man.

He doesn’t move when Harry leans in, or when Harry licks his lips briefly before placing them against Louis’.  His lips feel just as good as Louis had predicted when he’d first laid eyes on how plump and pink they were.  Harry kisses him softly, as though he’s just taking a moment to get used to it, and then Louis cups the back of Harry’s neck once he starts to get impatient.

Harry immediately gets the message, sliding his tongue in between Louis’ and allowing him to get a sense of what Harry tastes like.  Harry’s arm is still wrapped around his back, pulling him in impossibly close, but his other hand finds its way to Louis’ shirt, fiddling with the hem a bit.

Harry licks into Louis’ mouth as he lets his hand slide under Louis’ shirt, his palm spreading over his bare skin.  Louis flushes at the contact as he continues to kiss Harry.

His hand is warm, but Louis’ still getting chills regardless.  He wonders how it’s possible to get chills, yet still feel as though he’s on fire with every tug of Harry’s lips against his.

Yeah, he’s probably gonna have sex with him tonight.

When Louis pulls back from the kiss, he keeps his eyes closed for the time being, lifting his arms to rest on Harry’s shoulders as the boy continues to sway them.

When he opens his eyes, Harry seems quite smug, grinning down at Louis with dilated eyes.

Louis bites his bottom lip before opening his mouth to speak.  “So, lover boy,” he starts, his voice clearly weaker than before, even though he tries to fake a perfect composure.  “What are your intentions with me?”

When Harry suddenly reaches down and squeezes at Louis’ ass, Louis actually _gasps_.  His eyes fall right back down to Harry’s lips and he already knows he’s done for.  It looks like Harry feels the same too, because his eyes look quite dazed, as though he’s completely lost control.

“Okay then,” Louis says, nodding his head vigorously.

Harry’s hand is removed from under Louis’ shirt before he offers it to Louis.  Louis quickly takes his hand, lacing their fingers together before Harry turns around and drags him along.

Louis’ on board with how determined Harry is, because honestly, if he doesn’t get to the loo with this boy in the next few seconds he’s going to lose his damn mind.  He lets Harry guide him as they maneuver the club, shoving their way through bodies and growing impatient with every stride.

When Harry _does_ lead them to the loo, however, the boy curses under his breath at the fact that it’s literally full of people, conversing, checking themselves in the mirror, or occupying the stalls.   Louis tries not to curse under his breath too as he watches Harry shut the door.  He turns to Louis expectantly, before glancing down at their joined hands.

“We can go back to mine if you want?  I don’t live too far from here.”

Louis’ teeth bite down on his bottom lip as he nods.  “Yeah, that’s fine.  I came here with my friend though, so I gotta let them know.”

Harry nods in agreement before Louis turns around and actually leads the way.  He walks over to where he saw Stan last, relief washing over him when he finds him still sitting there, downing shots as his friends (or whatever) scream and cheer.

“Louis!” Stan says upon noticing Louis’ approach.  He glances down at where he’s holding Harry’s hand for a second, his eyebrow quirking up.

“I’m going home with this dude,” Louis starts, shrugging his right shoulder.  “Don’t wait up for me.”

He doesn’t wait for Stan’s response before venturing out to the front of the club where the exit doors are.  Harry takes the lead once they enter the parking lot, and Louis’ eagerness hasn’t decreased one bit from when Harry first kissed him— _approached_ him, for that matter.

“How far did you park?  Holy shit,” Louis mutters as he follows behind. Right then, as if on cue, Harry pauses in his steps, and Louis looks over to find him completely still, his hand pressed to his mouth.  He trails his eyes down to whatever Harry’s looking at, and it immediately causes Louis to giggle.

He assumes they’ve stopped in front of Harry’s car, which is a tiny little white-looking thing, and he also assumes Harry’s in shock because his tires have yellow wheel clamps on them, preventing him from being able to go anywhere.

“I don’t think you’re driving anywhere anytime soon, mate,” Louis laughs, freeing his hand from Harry’s.

“I thought I could park here!” Harry claims, to no one in particular as he scrunches his fingers in his hair.  Louis just laughs as he rests against the car, a little chilled by the cold night.

Harry just glares at him, but he’s barely able to hold it before he cracks a smile in his direction.  “It’s not funny,” he says as he kicks at the ground.

“This is the kinda thing that should be repelling me,” Louis says, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’ll…” Harry starts, looking up in concentration as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.  “I’ll call a cab—I’ll deal with my car bullshit later.”

“Getting a little profane there, Styles.”

Harry ignores him as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket, wandering aimlessly in a circle as he holds it up to his ear.  He talks to whoever he needs to in order to get a cab over as soon as possible, and Louis’ growing surprised at his actual ability to become irritated, seeing as he thought he was an innocent little angel.

“It’s at this point that I should start asking myself, _is it really worth it_?” Louis voices into the open air, just as Harry’s getting off of the phone.

“Is _what_ really worth it?” he asks, his lips quirked up.

“Your dick,” Louis replies bluntly, causing Harry’s dimples to deepen.

He kicks his feet as he approaches where Louis is leaned against his car.  He still has one hand in his pocket and he looks like quite the charmer.

“You and me both know it’s worth it,” he says with a smug look on his face.

Louis grins tightly as he looks up at him, arms still crossed.  “I actually don’t know.  _You’re_ probably just talking it up right now and setting me up to be let down later.”

Harry laughs as he reaches out to mess with Louis’ collar.  “Are we _really_ having a conversation about my dick right now?”

Louis shrugs.  “It’s the only reason I’m here right now, so yeah.”

“You are so…nonchalant, and slightly rude,” Harry starts, literally beaming down at Louis as he pulls him closer by his shirt.  “And it’s so endearing.”

“That sucks,” Louis says as he lets his hand rest on Harry’s shoulder.  “Makes it nearly impossible for me to ever get rid of you.”

Harry gives him a satisfactory hum in response.  “Yep.  You’re stuck with me.”

Louis runs his fingers along Harry’s shoulder, reaching the edge and then letting his hand slide down the side of his arm.  He just wants to _touch_ him, get close to him, press their bodies together until he’s not sure whose body is which.

He’s really fucked.

“And honestly, how could you ever expect me to stay away when you’re wearing _leather pants_?” Harry asks, now running his knuckles up and down Louis’ thigh.

Louis understands; he had come dressed to _kill_ today, clad in a white, short-sleeved button down that’s only _slightly_ see through, along with the black leather pants that he knows his bum looks irresistible in.  He even has the first few buttons of his shirt undone, but that’s only because he likes _looking good_ ; he isn’t scouring for anyone’s attention.

Or maybe he is.

“So, the secret’s out,” Louis teases, pulling Harry in by his belt loop.  “The only reason you’re really after me is because of the pants.”

“Yep, you caught me,” Harry replies with a smirk.  “Because your piercing blue eyes and overall outrageously appealing aura isn’t enough.”

Louis blushes as he looks at Harry in much closer vicinity now.  “How many flattering compliments have you got in you?”

Harry bites back a grin.  “A couple more if this night drags out any longer.”

“Well, then…thank you for all of them in advance.  They’re really sweet, honestly.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry replies, before leaning in close and pressing his lips against Louis’ cheek.

“Don’t get sappy on me now,” Louis says as Harry continues to press kisses into the side of his face, his lips slowly working their way toward his jaw.

Harry fully buries his face in Louis’ neck, taking a moment to breathe in and thoroughly succeeding in showing Louis how ridiculous he is.  It feels good though, so he doesn’t immediately push Harry off and make fun of him for taking a whiff of his neck.

As Harry continues to mouth at Louis’ skin, Louis sees a yellow vehicle figure in the distance, pulling up near the front of the club.

“I think the cab’s here,” Louis announces, playfully shoving Harry off of him.

Harry pulls back, dimples in his cheeks as he stares at Louis for a moment.  He turns to find the cab, immediately reaching down and lacing their fingers together once again.

“Guess this is where the journey begins,” he says with a joyful sigh, looking pointedly at Louis.

“Oh, shut up,” Louis says fondly as he leads the way.

Harry giggles as he follows behind, and Louis’ genuinely alarmed by his lack of concern for the well-being of his car.

They slide into the vehicle, Louis taking the window seat and Harry not holding back in invading Louis’ space in such a spacious backseat.  Their thighs press together as Harry sits by him and gives the driver directions.

Once they’re on their way, Louis realizes how awkward it is, because he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands, and Harry’s sitting so close next to him.  He doesn’t want to make the driver uncomfortable, though, so he continues to sit still.

“With a buildup like this, I hope you live in a palace,” Louis says, clasping his hands together in his lap.

“Well—“

“Let me guess, with a prince like me it’s automatically gonna make it a palace, or something like that?” Louis asks looking up at Harry with a grin.

Harry chuckles, setting his fist on Louis’ thigh in some affectionate manner.  “I wasn’t gonna say that, but that’s actually a good one.  I’ll store it in my mind for later.”

“Now you can’t use it, because I already know about it,” Louis replies, setting his fist on Harry’s thigh in the exact same way.

“You’ll forget about this little moment someday,” Harry says easily, placing his hand over Louis’ on his lap.

 _Someday_ …okay.

Louis stares down at their hands; Harry’s softly resting on top of his.  This is way too much for a one night stand, isn’t it?  He proves himself to be even more correct when he flips his hand over so he can lace their fingers together.  They sit like that, holding hands for absolutely no reason, until they reach Harry’s place.

“Not a palace, as you can see,” Harry points out once they exit the cab.

“Obviously,” Louis agrees as they trudge up the stairs to his apartment complex.  “But it’ll do, because you’re cute.  And sweet.”

Harry twists the key to his front door as he smirks at Louis.  “What a compliment.  Top notch if you ask me.”

“Thank you,” Louis says.  “I’m proud of it.”

“My compliments are better by a mile, though,” Harry comments as he opens his door

Louis steps in after Harry holds the door open for him, and the place looks decent for the most part.  Everything about it is pretty much normal, even though he can’t ignore the excessive amount of plants he has in different areas of his apartment.

He crosses his arms as he steps into the living room and Harry locks the front door.  He stands in front of a tall, potted, bamboo-looking plant, because truthfully…this is a _lot_ of plants.

He turns around, checking to see where Harry is and nearly getting the breath knocked out of him when Harry’s kissing him, gripping him on either of his arms and pressing him into the nearest wall.  Louis immediately sinks into it, grasping at Harry’s forearms and opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.  Harry unbuttons his shirt with an alarming swiftness as their lips slide over each other, and soon Louis’ bare torso is exposed and slightly cold.

Louis presses into Harry a bit more forcefully, causing the boy to stumble back until his backside hits the couch, but they never break the kiss.  Louis slides his legs in between them, desperate for a little friction and immediately growing satisfied when Harry gasps into his mouth.

It’s just as Harry’s sliding Louis’ shirt off, bringing the sleeves just past his shoulders, that Louis feels something fluffy scurry across his feet and he nearly jumps, letting out a shriek in the process.

Louis’ eyes immediately shoot down as he pulls back from the kiss, focus landing on the little dog that’s now looking up at them with curious eyes.  Louis clutches his chest as he lets out a sigh, still recovering from the shock he’d just had.

It takes him a while to realize Harry’s absolutely dying of laughter—clutching his stomach and _everything_.

“What’s funny?” Louis asks as he crouches down to the ground to pet at the grey Shih Tzu that’s now looking a bit uncomfortable.

“You literally screamed,” Harry says, barely audible through his chuckles.

“Maybe if you’d actually, you know, _told_ me you had a dog,” Louis says as he scratches at the dog’s ears.  “I wouldn’t be so alarmed.”

Harry’s laughs calm down to a stop as Louis grows infatuated with how irresistibly cute this dog is.  The pup’s not even acting up, jumping all over Louis, or barking up a storm; just accepting all of Louis’ cuddles with open arms.

Harry scratches his head.  “Usually he’d be asleep by now.”

“What’s his name?” Louis asks as he gathers the dog in his arms.

“Roger.”

Louis blinks up at Harry as _Roger_ pants in his arms.  “Who the fuck names their pet Roger?”

Harry just blinks down at them, stroking his chin.  “It was the first thing that came to mind when I got him, okay?” he says with his hands up as he steps out of their way.

Louis fluffs Roger’s fur as the puppy tries to lick his face.  “You don’t wanna be named Roger, do you?” he asks with that obnoxious voice he uses when speaking to dogs and babies.  “You’d rather have a _cool_ name, like Stormy or Cobra, right?”

“Fucking Cobra?” Harry asks, causing Louis to glance at him from across the room.  He’s not wearing the sunglasses in his hair anymore and he’s currently shrugging himself out of his maroon blazer.

“ _Hey,_ why are you taking off your clothes?” Louis asks with a slight pout that he’s not ashamed of.

“I’ve been burning up for a while now,” Harry says once he’s free of his blazer and left with his black t-shirt that was underneath.  “And now that Roger’s interrupted us, I refuse to suffer for a second longer.”

“ _I’m_ supposed to take off your clothes,” Louis whines.  “You’re taking the fun out of it.”

“I’m only taking off my blazer, okay?” Harry says, before stopping to think for a second.  “And my jeans.”  He bends over in order to pull off his jeans as Louis rolls his eyes, watching Harry now in only his black t-shirt and plaid boxers.  Nice.

He walks over to Louis, offering his arms for Roger, who seems less than eager to be transferred from Louis’ arms and into Harry’s.

“I fed him before I left, but he’s probably hungry again,” Harry says as he takes him from Louis and rubs his cheek against his gray, fluffy fur.

Louis clasps his hands together as he follows Harry into the kitchen.  “Probably.  But then again I know close to nothing about dogs, so.”

“You don’t have any dogs?” Harry asks with way too much concern as he grabs Roger’s bowl off of the counter and sets it on the floor.

“Well, I haven’t really got the time to care for one,” Louis replies as he takes a seat at the round, wooden table in Harry’s kitchen.  “And I barely tolerate dogs, anyway.  Roger’s just a special case because he’s so quiet and polite.”

Harry pours the sack of dog food into Roger’s bowl, causing him to shuffle over and bury his face in it, endearing Louis in ways he didn’t understand.  Roger is definitely one of the cutest dogs Louis has ever seen.

“He’s usually quite rowdy, actually,” Harry says as he opens up his fridge.  The light from it illuminates the dark flat, making Louis realize they haven’t even turned any lights on.

“He’s just behaving because you’re here.”

Louis narrows his eyes as he watches Harry pull a loaf of bread out, because first of all—he _refrigerates_ his bread?—and second, he’s choosing _now_ of all times to eat something.

“Are you seriously eating something?  Right now?”

Harry glances at him briefly as he places four slices of bread on a plate.  “Yeah.  I’m hungry,” he says defensively.  “Can’t have sex on an empty stomach.”

Louis rolls his eyes for probably the thousandth time that night, slouching in his chair.

“You can help yourself to whatever you want, if you’re hungry,” Harry offers, reaching into the fridge to grab the jelly and the peanut butter.

“No, I’m good.”

“Do you _like_ rejecting offers, or are you just trying to be polite?”

Louis chuckles with a shake of his shoulders, watching as Harry spreads the peanut butter over the slices.  “A little bit of both.”

Roger scurries across the kitchen floor, jumping around Louis’ feet and barking, so Louis takes that as a plea for a cuddle.  He reaches down and picks him up, holding him in his lap and stroking his fur.  Maybe he _should_ get a dog.  He wants one that’s exactly like this one, though.

Harry pulls out a chair next to Louis at the round table as he sets his plate, full of two PB & J sandwiches, on top of it.

“Are you sure you don’t want one?” he asks, looking at Louis with concern.

Louis shakes his head.  “No, Harry.  I’m fine.  Promise.”

Harry shrugs in a “suit yourself” kind of manner as he takes a bite out of his sandwich.

They sit in silence for a moment, Louis watching as Harry takes bites out of his sandwich as though he’s some type of preschooler, and Roger pants in his lap, snuggled up in his arms.  It’s sort of peaceful and easy, as though this is something Louis has done with Harry before.

“This is all the stranger danger my mum taught me to stay away from,” Louis says in a low, quiet voice.  “If she were here right now, she’d yell at me.”

Harry almost looks offended, his eyebrows knitting together.  “I’m not some crazy kidnapper.”

Louis nods in agreement.  “True, but I still know close to nothing about you.”

His eyes wander around their surroundings for a moment, and he’s starting to feel oddly calm about the whole thing.  Maybe it’s because Roger’s quieted down in his lap, almost as though he’s about to fall asleep.  He really _is_ cute.

“Do you live here alone?” Louis asks, facing back to Harry.

“Are you trying to get to _know me_?” Harry asks, eyes widening at Louis.  “Let’s not go down that road, babe.”

Louis tries not to blush as he blinks at Harry.  “Don’t try to act like you’re some mysterious, dark figure now, okay.  I already know your last name, your address, and your pet’s lame name.”

Harry snickers as he chews on his food, eventually starting to cough as Louis watches him with indifference.  The dude can really laugh.

“I _don’t_ live here alone,” Harry answers once he’s finally gotten himself together.  “You’re holding my roommate in your arms right now.”

Louis huffs as he reaches over and snatches the second sandwich off of Harry’s plate.  Harry only laughs, tapping his feet against floor and smiling widely at Louis.

“Knew you were hungry.”

“I wasn’t hungry until I was forced to watch you eat,” Louis replies before taking a bite.

Louis’ aware of how easy it is to prepare a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but still, this particular one has to be one of the best he’s ever tasted.  He’s very impressed by Harry’s minor cooking skills.

So they end up sitting there, laughing here and there about something stupid, Roger breathing slowly as he sleeps peacefully in Louis’ lap.

Eventually Harry gets up and washes his plate before approaching Louis and carefully taking Roger out of his arms.  He’s not as gentle as he needs to be though, because Roger stirs awake, making noises as Harry sets him down on the couch.  He sighs as he looks down at the dog.

He turns to Louis for second, scratching fingers across his boxers as he contemplates something.

“Wanna watch T.V., or something?” Harry asks hesitantly.

Louis sits quietly, knowing he has an answer to that question, but not saying anything for some odd reason.

“Only until Roger falls asleep,” Harry continues.  “Then we can, uh…” he raises his eyebrows at Louis suggestively “do the thing.”

Louis’ neutral facial expression twists as he grins lopsidedly at Harry, getting up from where he’s sat.  “Sure, Styles,” he says as he stretches out his limbs.  He wonders what time it is.  Probably nearing two a.m., he guesses.

He makes sure to take the seat on the couch next to Roger, leaving the armrest on the edge of the couch for Harry as the boy presses the button on the remote to turn the T.V. on.  The screen makes Louis squint for a moment, blinded by the contrast of light from dark.  The first thing Louis finds himself watching is SpongeBob, occupying his vision and flooding into his ears at a low, hushed, late night volume.

“Do you wanna change into something more comfortable?” Harry asks as he stands behind the couch, arms resting along the back of it.  “I’ll have to dig up some miniature clothes of mine though, but I’m sure I can find something.”

Louis tilts his head back so he can look at Harry, who’s grinning down at him like an idiot.

“Miniature clothing.  Ha ha, very funny.”

Harry reaches out and tickles Louis under his chin, causing him to giggle.

“It’s the only kind of clothing that’ll fit you,” he explains.  “You can’t still be comfortable in those pants after all this time.”

“What if I am?”

“I know you’re not.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, Louis trying to pick out every detail of his eyes in the dark, and somehow succeeding.

“Fine,” Louis finally says, bringing his head down and facing the T.V.  “If you’ll bring me something, I’ll wear it.”

Without another word, Louis hears Harry’s feet shuffling down the hall.

He glances next to him at where Roger is on the couch, and he seems to be settling down again, eyes still open as he lays still.

Harry eventually comes back with a gray t-shirt that he claims “fits smallest on him” and some black sweatpants that are “tight as hell around his waist”.  Louis takes the items from him with a quiet “thank you”, before stripping out of his own clothes and folding them up.

The clothing items fit okay on him for the most part—in an oversized, boyfriend clothes sort of way.  He’s much more comfortable than he was before, however, so he doesn’t let it bother him.

“I look like I’ve been shrunk in the dryer,” Louis comments as he crashes back down on the couch in between Harry and Roger.

“Haven’t you?” Harry asks teasingly.

Louis scrunches his nose as he pokes Harry in his side and causes the boy to squirm.  “Don’t be rude.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry laughs as he struggles to shove Louis’ poking fingers away from him.

“I have to admit, this _is_ comfortable, though,” Louis says with a hum.

Harry wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him in, so Louis doesn’t hold back in resting his chin on his shoulder, still looking up at the boy.

“This is the weirdest one night stand I’ve ever had,” he comments.

Harry licks his lips as he faces the T.V., his fingers still brushing Louis’ side as he holds him.  “Well, maybe that means something.”

Louis presses his lips together for a moment, drumming his fingers against Harry’s back.  “Yeah.  It probably means you’re just weird.”

“Maybe,” Harry replies with a giggle.  “It can also mean you’re different.”

“Different from what?  Your _other_ one night stands?” Louis asks, adding a dramatic tone to his voice for effect.  “Am I just one of _many_ , Harry?  Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Louis can see how Harry slightly panics, blinking his eyes as he pulls him in closer.  “Well…”

“Relax.  I’m kidding,” Louis says softly, rubbing Harry’s back as he goes less tense.  He lifts his other hand to tilt Harry’s chin his way, grabbing Harry’s gaze.

“If it helps, there’ll probably be no one else after you,” Harry says, before leaning in and just barely brushing his lips against Louis’ jaw.

“There better not be,” Louis pretty much whispers.  He knows it’s sappy, and _way_ too soon concerning the circumstances they’re in, but right now, in this moment, he feels damn angry about anyone else getting Harry’s attention in the way he’s getting it right now.

He tilts his head back so he can catch Harry’s lips where they were just kissing his jaw.  The kiss is slow and sweet—much too sweet for the occasion, but Louis doesn’t care.  Harry’s warm fingers brush against the bare skin above Louis’ waist, and Louis works his hand through Harry’s mess of curls as he moves his lips against Harry’s.

The living room is filled only with the soft smacking sounds of their lips brushing against one another’s, along with the quiet cartoons playing on the T.V.

Louis wonders if Roger is sleeping, even as Harry takes his bottom lip between his teeth.

Harry pulls back after pressing one more slow and thorough kiss to Louis’ lips.

“Hope you know you’re a good kisser,” Harry purrs against his lips.

Louis tilts his head to the side as he focuses on Harry’s eyes.  “I’ve been told once or twice, yes.”

Harry bites his bottom lip as he stares back at Louis, before leaning over to check if Roger’s asleep.  Louis looks as well, to find that Roger’s still awake, even though it seems like every part of his being wants to shut his eyes.

“He’s a watchful little fellow, isn’t he?” Louis asks as he sighs, resting his head against Harry’s shoulder and watching the T.V.

“Yep,” Harry agrees as he brings his arm up to wrap around Louis’ shoulders.

They sit in comfortable silence as they watch the SpongeBob episode that’s on (which is one of Louis’ favorites by the way).  Louis’ head shakes every time Harry laughs, the boy seemingly forgetful of where Louis’ head is laid on his shoulder.

“They kept running away from him, but all he wanted was to buy some chocolate,” Harry explains as he laughs in near hysterics.

“I’ve watched the episode, Harry,” Louis says, followed by snicker, because it _is_ funny.

Harry’s trying so hard to control his laugh, because he doesn’t want to ease Roger out of the sleep he’s slowly falling into, but the episode seems to be making that a real struggle for him as his eyes literally water.

“Why does he keep yelling at them though?” Harry asks in a broken voice from all the laughter, as though Louis has the answer.

Louis grins as he draws circles in Harry’s back.  “I dunno.  I asked that same question when I was a kid.”

They continue to watch T.V. for about half an hour more, laughing together and overall enjoying each other’s company.  Louis could do this forever if he had the chance.

“This is the funniest part,” Louis says at one point, lifting his finger to point at the screen as he turns his head to look at Harry—only to find him sleeping.  Completely passed out, head resting against the back of the couch and his eyes closed as his chest moves in and out.

Louis raises his eyebrows at that as he lowers his finger.  This is…this is _something_.

He turns to look at Roger, who’s sleeping as well.

He doesn’t for one second think about shaking Harry awake, not when he looks so peaceful and majestic as he rests his eyes.

He doesn’t know if he should quietly let himself out, or…

Louis slumps his head back against Harry’s shoulder and shuts his eyes too.  He keeps his hand laid against Harry’s chest, and it takes him a while to fall into the rhythm of Harry’s soothing breaths, but eventually, he does.

When he opens his eyes again, he has to immediately squint at the bright lights coming in through the windows.  He almost forgets where he is for a moment as he stretches his arms out wide, letting out a ferocious yawn in the process.

Once he tiredly blinks his eyes at the tiny flower pots set on the T.V. stand, he remembers exactly where he is.  Neither Harry nor Roger are anywhere in sight, though.

“Good morning lovely,” he hears Harry call from the kitchen.

Louis rubs at his eyes as he turns around, glancing at Harry over the couch.  He’s in the kitchen, dealing with something on the stove as Roger plays with a toy at his feet.  It kind of hits him at that moment that this is probably how most of Harry’s mornings go.  It’s very quiet and serene, watching Harry giggle at Roger as the little fluffy thing barks up at him.

“Good morning,” Louis replies, giving his arms one last stretch.  He places his hand in his hair, knowing it’s probably all sorts of fucked up right now.

“I’m making pancakes,” Harry says.

“Of course you are,” Louis replies, before going over and reaching for his phone that’s set on the living room table next to his folded clothes.  He has three calls from Stan, probably checking to see if he’s been kidnapped, because this is definitely the longest he’s ever been with a guy he was hooking up with.

“You woke up at the perfect time.  They’re basically ready,” Harry says, and Louis swears that’s the exact moment when the sweet smell of blueberry pancakes starts to make its way up his nostrils.

Louis pushes himself up from the couch before dragging his feet over to where Harry is in the kitchen.

“You really didn’t have to make me breakfast,” Louis says, his voice still weak and tired.

Harry makes googly eyes at Louis as he sets the pancakes on two plates.  “You’re so cute when you’ve just woken up.  Your hair is all disheveled and stuff.”

Louis places a hand in his hair again, trying to do whatever he can to fix it up.  He’s pretty sure he’s now nowhere near as desirable looking as he was last night.  He doesn’t even know if sex is still on the table anymore.

Louis knew he could count on Harry to do the absolute most, so he isn’t surprised when Harry places strawberries on their plates as well, finishing it off with a little sprinkle of powdered sugar.

Something Louis _is_ a bit surprised about is the fact that Harry’s pancakes taste exceptional; he’d known Harry was somewhat handy in the kitchen because of the simple sandwiches he’d made the night before, but this dude is a real life _cook_ , it seems.

Harry makes everything even sappier when he feeds Louis his strawberries, which turn out to be a failure, because Louis can’t stop laughing at how ridiculous everything is.

“Although you’re bad at feeding people food, you’re really good at cooking,” Louis says once Harry finishes sticking a strawberry in his mouth.

Harry shrugs as he shakes his head fondly at Louis.  “I cook in my free time.”

“For yourself?” Louis asks.

Harry pokes out his lips for a moment, glancing down at where Roger is laid at his feet.  “Well, also for him if he’s ever in the mood for leftovers.  He’s not begging me right now, though.”

Louis just smiles at him, taking so much joy out of just the sight of Harry’s face, _especially_ in the perfect daytime lighting.  He is truly beautiful, and his eyes are _green_ , and his lips are so pink and shiny, and—

“Is it okay if I use your shower?” Louis asks.

“Sure,” Harry replies with a nod, already getting up to take both of their plates.  He goes over the sink to start washing them, and Louis tries to ignore how damn _domestic_ this is.

“My room’s at the end of the hall,” he says.  “Everything you need is in the closet in the bathroom.  Extra towels, loofahs, toothbrushes, all that.”

“What is this, a spa?” Louis asks as he stands up from his chair.

“I always keep extra of everything to avoid making trips to the store,” Harry replies with a shrug.

Louis shakes his head as he waltzes down the hall, opening the door to Harry’s bedroom.  It’s pretty well-kept in Louis’ opinion; there’s not even a single item of clothing on the floor, which is a big contrast to Louis’ bedroom.  Most of the time when he’s going somewhere for something he doesn’t care about, he picks up the first t-shirt he sees on the floor that smells half-decent.

Harry has pure white bed sheets on his bed, and there are tiny cactuses lined up along his windowsill.  Someday, Louis’ really going to have to figure out this guy’s problem.

He goes into the bathroom, opening up the closet and finding everything Harry had told him about, organized neatly on different racks along the wall.  He reaches for a white towel, a blue loofah, and a red toothbrush, even though there’s many more things he could grab, like baby lotion, facial scrub, and this round rock looking thing.

He shuts the closet door and proceeds to go over and turn the knob on the shower.

His shower lasts about fifteen minutes, even though the smell of Harry’s citrus body wash almost convinces him to stay even longer.  He wraps the towel around his waist as he leans over the sink to brush his teeth.

Harry is sitting on his bed when Louis gets out of his bathroom, scrolling through his phone casually.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower,” Louis says hesitantly, his steps slowing.  “I’m just gonna…put on my clothes.  Yeah.”

Harry bites the inside of his cheek as he looks up at Louis.  Louis could’ve misinterpreted it, or maybe he’s being dramatic, but he swears Harry’s face falls just a _hint_ , as though he’s bummed out or something of the sort.

Harry shrugs his shoulders before speaking.  “Yep.  I kinda need to shower too.”

Louis steps out of the way of the bathroom, gesturing at it.  “Go ahead.”

Harry steps into the bathroom past Louis, not holding back in glancing at Louis’ lack of shirt before entering.

Louis wanders aimlessly for a second as he hears the shower turn on in Harry’s bathroom.  This place is really nice.  Louis would definitely mess it up if he ever got his hands on it.

He smoothes his fingers across the soft, pale duvet as he stands there.  He gets an idea out of nowhere, and ends up snuggling up under Harry’s blanket, immediately finding himself too comfortable to ever want to leave.

When Harry gets out of the bathroom, he’s already got his clothes on—a long sleeved white t-shirt and trackies—that he’d probably brought with him into the bathroom.  Louis smirks at him from where he’s laid on his bed, and Harry looks down at where Louis left his towel on the floor.

“Are you naked under there?” Harry asks.

“Completely,” Louis answers.

Harry pouts.  “I wasted all that time putting my clothes on.”

Louis makes grabby hands at Harry as he grins.  “Just c’mere.  I’ll help you with that.”

Harry bites down on his bottom lip as a wide grin takes its place on his face, and he takes a few strides forward before slipping under the covers with Louis, immediately attaching their lips.

Louis quickly gets in the mood at the sole fact that Harry’s on top of him, pinning him down to the mattress as they continue to make out.  He lets his hands wander under Harry’s shirt, gripping onto his back as he engulfs his mouth in Harry’s.

Harry’s hands are hesitant as he licks into Louis’ mouth; it’s obvious he wants to touch Louis’ dick but he’s not sure if Louis’ given him permission.

“Harry, you can touch me,” Louis pants between kisses, causing Harry to pull back and look at him.  Harry actually _moves_ Louis’ hair out of his face.

“You sure?” he asks, and yep, this is definitely not a regular one night stand.

Louis nods.

Their lips fall back into rhythm as Louis grabs at the front of Harry’s trackies, already feeling him hard against the fabric.  Harry’s breath stutters as they kiss, so Louis’ pretty sure the tiny touch sparked something in him.  Harry pulls his own cock out of his trousers and immediately wraps a fist around the _both_ of them, causing Louis to whimper into his mouth.

Louis knew his large hands would come in handy.

Harry moves down to mouth at Louis’ neck as he pumps his fist.  Louis jerks his hips up into the touch, already on edge from the friction against both of their cocks and the feeling of Harry’s tongue on his neck as he sucks on the skin.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes as Harry starts to speed up his movements.

A low moan from somewhere deep inside Harry escapes his mouth as he thrusts into the movement.  This is genuinely everything to Louis; the view he has of Harry against his neck, struggling to control himself, Harry’s giant fist working both of them, the _sounds_ Harry’s making for goodness’ sake.

Louis curls his toes as Harry slows down his thrusts, starting to move his fist at a torturingly leisure pace.  Louis feels the precome from both of their cocks spreading over Harry’s hands, lubricating the movements.

Louis sets his hand in Harry’s hair and tugs his head up so he can see his face when he comes, because he knows this boy is on the edge just by how his movements are becoming less controlled.

“I’m close,” Louis breathes as his mouth hangs open.  Harry’s eyes are closed, and his teeth are biting into his bottom lip so hard that Louis’ sure they’re on the verge of bleeding.  The fact that Harry’s trying so hard to keep everything in is so… _sexy_.

Harry comes when Louis gives one hard thrust into his fist, the sensation of Louis’ cock sliding against his making him go mad with stimulation.  Harry’s loud when he comes, his moans filling the air as his hips stutter.

His eyebrows are furrowed as he slows down his hand movements to a stop, slowly opening his eyes to meet Louis’.  Not even two seconds pass before he’s pushing himself down the bed, kissing down Louis’ torso in the process.

Louis closes his eyes and settles his head into the fluffy white pillows, already feeling sensitive just from the smooth wetness of Harry’s mouth against his hips.

Harry kisses up his shaft where some of his own come is, before licking it with long strokes.  Louis takes in a sharp breath as his back arches off of the bed.  He’s basically on the brink of an orgasm anyway, so he’s pretty sure when Harry’s mouth touches the head he’s going to lose it.

Harry licks at the head of his cock, and when Louis opens his eyes, Harry’s looking up at him intensely.  Louis places a gentle hand in Harry’s curls, biting on his lip as he watches Harry taste him.

When Harry goes down and takes Louis all the way in, Louis gasps, quickly gripping at the duvet with his other hand.  He’s literally hitting the back of Harry’s throat, _already_ , and the feeling makes him come hard, spilling into Harry’s mouth and causing the boy to splutter only a little.

Harry smirks up at Louis from where he is, low on the bed.  Louis takes a few deep breaths to catch himself, closing his eyes and seeing the aftermath of stars.

He feels Harry crawling back up towards him, and he doesn’t resist when Harry tilts Louis’ chin towards him and kisses him wet and slow.

“Honestly,” Louis pants in between kisses.  “Want you to fuck me.  Like, now.”

Harry giggles into his mouth.

He reaches down for the hem of Harry’s t-shirt and moves quickly to pull it off over his head.  It isn’t a surprise that his body is beautiful, and Louis nips at his chest as Harry reaches over to his dresser.

“You don’t even care to ask me if I top or not.  Rude,” Harry says as he spreads lube over his fingers.

“I don’t do anything else besides bottom, so,” Louis replies, growing impatient with every second Harry takes making sure his fingers are lubed up.  “ _Do_ you top, though?”

Harry shrugs with a smirk. “I can do both.”

Ah.  A versatile little puppy.

Harry rolls off from on top of Louis, now laying on his side and motioning Louis to do the same.  He wraps an arm around the back of Louis’ thigh and brings him close

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis nearly whispers, reaching out to touch at Harry’s lips.

Harry inserts one finger first, immediately emitting a gasp from Louis.  It’s cold and slick—nothing Louis isn’t used to.

Harry leans forward and presses his lips against Louis’ collarbone as he thrusts his finger in and out.  Eventually he puts another finger in, stretching out his fingers as Louis gets comfortable.  He brushes against Louis’ prostate briefly, causing him to take in a sharp breath.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for so long,” Harry whispers into his skin.

“Like, since last night?” Louis says, trying to sound snippy and failing when he stumbles over his words.

Harry hitches up his leg a bit more as he thrusts his two fingers in more vigorously.  “No.  I’ve seen you at that same club once before.”

Louis closes his eyes and grips at the back of Harry’s head as he moves his hips into Harry’s fingers.  “And you didn’t approach me?”

“You’re intimidating,” Harry says.

Of course.  Louis almost feels sick to his stomach at the thought of Harry seeing him one night, plotting to approach him, and then never carrying out that plan.  He can’t imagine never having met Harry—even if it was only for one night.  Something about the boy is so significant to Louis.

Louis pulls back, cupping Harry on either of his cheeks so he can press a kiss to his lips.  “I’m ready.”

Harry nods determinately, before pulling his fingers out and reaching over Louis for the condom in his drawer.

He lets Louis slip it on him, looking him in the eye the entire time with an intensity that doesn’t even make Louis feel uncomfortable.

When Harry slides between his thighs and pushes inside, Louis’ eyes fly shut as he holds his breath.

His body’s nearly aching with anticipation from how full Harry is making him, and all he wants is for Harry to start fucking into him, _fast_.

When Louis opens his eyes, he finds that Harry’s are closed.  He looks down to see where Harry’s fingers are gripping onto the flesh on his thigh, leaving marks of red.

“I don’t think I’ll be very long,” Harry manages to get out, before pulling back and pushing into Louis again, this time more certain.

Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s curls and grips tight as Harry thrusts into him rhythmically, and he’s pretty sure he won’t be very long either.  Harry’s _big_ , and the faces he’s making are so fucking desperate and hypnotizing.

Louis doesn’t mean to yank at Harry’s hair when the boy hits the right spot at some point, but he does, and Harry shudders, shoving into Louis more impatiently.

Louis whimpers as Harry continuously sends his body into a frenzy of pleasure, his body thrumming with satisfaction as Harry holds him tight.  Harry’s growing less and less hesitant with every second, and Louis has to bury his head in the boy’s shoulder when Harry grips his ass to get a better angle.

He finds himself wailing into Harry’s neck, the sounds muffled by the pillow his cheek is pressed up against.

“ _Fuck,_ I’m—I,” Harry starts as he breathes frantically, his strokes becoming erratic.

Their are bodies are flush against each other, moist with sweat as they try to get close, pressing themselves into one another as though it’s even possible for them to get any closer.

Louis’ hips follow Harry’s thrusts as he starts to lose it, chasing the feeling of Harry’s cock and moaning every time it hits his prostate.

“Jesus,” Louis nearly shouts, followed by a bunch of jumbled up swears that make no sense.  “Right there, oh my _god_.”  He bites at Harry’s shoulder to contain himself.

Harry picks up his pace now, apparently giving up on holding back as much as he was, and he’s giving Louis everything he has, even causing them to scoot on the bed a little.

Harry’s hips stutter and he lets out a low moan when Louis pulls his hair particularly hard, and soon after, Louis clenches around Harry as he comes too.

It seems like a really long orgasm as Louis spills all over his chest and Harry’s.  He’s nearly shaking as he comes out of it, dizzy with satisfaction and a little sleepy.  A little ready for another round.

When he finally opens his eyes, he sees Harry lying on his back, breathing heavily as his head faces Louis. His green eyes are dazed as he locks them with Louis’ blue ones.  Everything almost feels surreal for a moment.

“Holy shit, Louis,” he says slowly, as though he’d just discovered the meaning to life.

Louis manages to grin as he blinks slowly at Harry, inching closer so he can just be in his space.  He always wants to be in Harry’s space.

Harry reaches out, running his fingers through Louis’ messed up hair and tracing down his scalp.  “Was the buildup worth it?” he asks.

Louis tilts his head towards Harry’s touch so the boy can get as much access to play with his hair as he wants.

“Maybe,” Louis replies with a cheeky grin.

Harry gently brings him in by the back of his head, kissing him yet again.  Kissing him _after_ sex.

Louis laughs into the kiss as he rolls them over, taking the position on top and smoothing his hands down Harry’s chest as their lips stay connected.  The kiss isn’t rushed or filled with purpose; just languid, sending Louis’ heart fluttering in ways he didn’t know it could flutter.

When Louis feels something brush across his back that _definitely_ doesn’t feel like Harry’s hands, he breaks from the kiss, gasping abruptly.  “Oh my—“

He catches himself before he can freak out, slapping his palm against his forehead as Harry laughs underneath him, all light and fluffy.  Roger barks from beside them on the bed, rolling on his back; his eyes are wide and he looks like he’s ready to go on a long walk.

Louis thanks the heavens that the blankets are still covering most of their bodies at the moment.

“You’ve got to stop scaring me, pup,” Louis groans before rolling off of Harry so that he can scratch at Roger’s ears.  Roger rolls on his back again, giving Louis access to rub at his tummy.

“I think he likes you,” Harry says as he props his head up on his fist.

Louis scoffs as he continues to fluff Roger’s fur.  “And how would you know that?”

Harry grins, his right dimple popping out as he watches them with pure adoration.  It all feels very homely.

“He told me,” Harry replies.

Louis rolls his eyes without even trying to hide the fondness behind them.

Harry shifts on the bed, reaching over so that he can coerce Roger into his arms.  Roger happily scurries from Louis’ side of the bed over to Harry’s.  Harry strokes his fur and nuzzles his nose against Roger’s snout, and Louis’ pretty sure he’s going to get a cavity from all of this sweetness.

Harry turns to Louis now, his eyes somehow looking bigger than before.

“He also told me that he wants you around,” he says, his voice soft.  Louis’ neck flushes as he looks down, concentrating on the embroideries of the duvet.

“You wanna tell me what else he’s said, dog whisperer?” Louis asks.

Roger moves away from Harry and settles on top of the duvet in between them, burying himself in the sheets comfortably.

“Says his owner gets lonely sometimes,” Harry continues.  “Don’t know where he got that from, though.  He talks out of his ass often.”

Louis’ eyes soften as he looks at Harry, and the thought of him feeling miserable for even a second in this apartment alone makes him feel a bit—no, _very_ —saddened.

“Tell Roger that there’s no chance of getting rid of me anyways,” Louis says, even though his eyes are glued to Harry’s.  “Not when his owner’s so fucking adorable.”

Harry absolutely brightens up at this, smiling at Louis like he’s the only thing that matters at the moment.   His words are slow and unsure when they flow out of his mouth.  “So, you’ll come around…often?”

Louis nods, before bringing his hand out from underneath him, holding a pinky out towards Harry.   Harry grins down at it before reaching out and eagerly linking his pinky around Louis’.

“Promise,” Louis says.


End file.
